


Shade-Tolerant Species

by KARASCII (PrinceWinter)



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Abandonment, Child Abandonment, Cringe Culture Is Dead And I Killed It, Depression, Dryads - Freeform, Fantasy Racism, Human/Monster Romance, M/M, Magic Illness, Not Beta Read, OC/Canon, Self-Esteem Issues, non-human Farmer, unfortunately
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceWinter/pseuds/KARASCII
Summary: For the past few decades, Fae beings have begun living alongside humans. Tensions are still high, and Fae who choose to live amongst humans are often treated poorly, and many end up returning home before long.Belial, a swamp-dwelling fae known as a Moss Dryad, is perhaps just too stubborn to go back to the Arcane Wilds. After getting fired from a dead-end job for suspicions that he may be using malicious magic, he discovers that an old friend left him a precious gift.Will he be happier in the sleepy town in Stardew Valley? Or does he truly not belong amongst humans at all?





	1. 1 - no place like home

**Author's Note:**

> I always avoided OC/Canon stories. Hell, I often resisted writing stories that had OCs and canon characters breathing the same air. However, I'm an adult. I have a job. If I want to write a story where my dumb monster bastard OC smooches Sebastian, I can damn well do so.
> 
> And so, here we go.
> 
> If anyone's curious as to what Belial looks like, here's a little doodle I made of him the other day: https://file.toyhou.se/images/14953842_7eSZaCGCvBixOto.png
> 
> Fun facts: His hair has the texture of moss. The dread-like things are very soft. He also has 'freckles' that are the same grey-green scales on his arms and legs on his cheeks and shoulders, but I forgot to draw them there.

One of the hardest feelings in the world is the realization that this world was not made for you. The feeling is like a deep knowledge that you don’t belong, not in this specific town or this specific friend group, but in the world as a whole. It’s a deeply oppressive sensation, unpleasantly bitter and sickly, like the taste of suctioning mucus from the back of your throat with your tongue.

This world was made for humans, not monsters. Not the Fae beings that have begun wandering across the dimensional walls that separate one world from another. It’s a miracle that the negative backlash from their arrival isn’t worse. Humans aren’t inherently evil, of course, but they do tend to hurt things they don’t understand, and naturally resist change.

Deep down, Belial, a 24-year-old Moss Dryad, always knew this. He’d been living on the wrong side of the dimensional border for longer than most Fae would dare. His refusal to go back to where he apparently ‘belonged’ could be chalked up to stubbornness, or maybe he just doesn’t have anywhere else to go. For reasons that to everyone around him are a mystery, he consistently immerses himself in the human world. He lives in a human city, commutes across Zuzu with other humans, and until today, he worked a human job. 

Despite how miserable working at Joja was, he knew he was lucky to be hired. Most Fae wouldn’t even be considered for the job of throwing out the company’s trash, let alone be trusted behind a desk to work customer service. It helped that he’d long since lost any otherworldly accent he’d had, so he could talk on the phone with customers and they would be none the wiser to the fact that he wasn’t human.

But today, he’d been abruptly fired. Why? Well, he didn’t have the right to a reason, apparently. All he got was a rude awakening by an angry phone call, telling him to come in and gather his things before they’re all thrown out. Truthfully, there wasn’t much at his desk that he cared about, but he barely lived above the poverty line as it was. He couldn’t afford to waste anything, even if he didn’t want it.

So there he stood, slowly sweeping old documents into a beat-up box. His sharp ears picked up how his co-workers were murmuring about him behind his back, and while he could easily discern the things they were saying, he forced himself not to listen. He kept his tail tucked near his legs, still aching from where it had gotten stepped on several times as he made his way down the streets. He tried to imagine that most of the time it was an accident.

“You better not leave a single thing behind,” a gruff voice spoke from behind him.

Belial winced as he turned around, a chill creeping up his back. His boss had always made him uncomfortable. He was tall and wide, with a wrinkled face that always pulled itself into a scowl whenever he was nearby. The dryad swallowed despite his dry mouth and nodded. “I’m going to take it all, don’t worry.”

“I don’t want any of your magic garbage left here. The last thing we need is one of your  _ demon _ curses on our office.” He crossed his arms, gaze burning a hole into Belial’s shoulder.

“No magic here, sir.” Belial tried to go a little faster. “I’ve always abided by company policy; no magic allowed--”

The boss scoffed loudly. “Of course there was magic. I can’t trust you damn demons with anything. Always up to no good.”

A little spark of anger lit under Belial’s anxiety. A small part of him would love if he could just headbutt his boss, jabbing him hard with his pointed horns.  _ ‘That’d leave enough of a scar to teach the old bastard a lesson…’ _

But he knew he couldn’t do that. Despite the mistreatment, he didn’t even want to. He sorted the last of his things into the box before glancing around, his pale yellow eyes scanning across the office.  _ Break time _ . Everyone’s favorite part of the workday. Belial’s as well, but for a different reason. It was the time of day where he could watch the humans around him laugh and smile and socialize. Sure, some of them were irritable and asocial, and the relationships he observed were shallow at best, but these tiny moments reminded him that humans were not as awful as they seemed.

Despite everything, Belial wanted to live here. He wanted to live amongst humans. He wanted to belong amongst them. Working at Joja was miserable work with little pay, but he got to feel human for a little bit. Being human wasn’t fun, but it was something he wanted more than anything.

Finding a new job was going to be a painful struggle, but he knew he had to press on. After all, unlike most Fae, he didn’t have a home to return to in the other world.

As he turned to walk away, his boss’ sharp voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Hey! You idiot, get back here!”

Belial turned around, going cold with dread. Yes, he’d accidentally caused some algae to grow on the bottom of the desk, but there was no way the boss had noticed that, right? To his surprise, the boss was holding an unfamiliar envelope between his index finger and thumb, far out in front of him as if it were soiled. 

“What did I just say? Take this, or I’m gonna burn it!” At the command, Belial slinked forward and took the envelope, deciding not to point out that he didn’t recognize it. With a small amount of internal amusement, he could distinctly feel no magic within the folded paper. The only thing that even stood out about it was the wax seal--which was a bit sparkly.

_ ‘Sparkles equal magic, then?’ _ His internal humor was cut short as his boss barked more angry commands at him. Not stopping to hear the specific words, Belial hurried out of the office with the box, now one envelope heavier, clutched in his arms.

* * *

It was only a little after noon when Belial arrived back at his apartment. It was an awful place, honestly. Less a proper apartment and more someone’s basement that was converted from a crack den into a shoddy living space. It was the closest place to the office that he could afford, and the landlord didn’t care that he was nonhuman.

He might need to find a new place, soon. Or maybe he’d end up on the streets. It wouldn’t be the first time for either. He was used to having a rocky living situation. Experience hardly made it less unpleasant, but at least he knew how to handle it somewhat.

Just as he arrived home, however, a wave of illness washed over him. It was familiar, yes, but entirely unpleasant all the same. He dropped the box on the ground and ran to the bathroom, grateful for once that his toilet didn’t have a proper lid or seat on it. Chills ran up and down his body as he vomited into the bowl. With bleary eyes, he saw the thick black liquid stir beneath him, and his breath caught with dread. 

Unlike humans, Fae didn’t always bleed red. Some bled gold, blue, pink, even vivid glowing greens. He bled a dark, sickly black, reddish only in bright light.

He shakily wiped the blood from his mouth, the rough green scales present on his extremities uncomfortable against his lips. This was more than last time, and the time before that. As he flushed his sickness away, Belial sat on the cold, damp floor, knees hugged up to his chest. He could hardly deny he was ill at this point, but even still, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t afford a doctor even if there was one that could help a nonhuman.

He felt his throat close up, but he stubbornly refused to cry. What would that solve? It’d just make him feel weak, and probably leave him with a headache. Once he swallowed back the lump in his throat, he dragged himself to his feet, limbs feeling much heavier now. The effort of getting up made him dizzy, and a few black spots framed his vision, but he managed not to fall. After grabbing himself a bottle of water (which he promptly spilled a solid quarter of on himself when trying to drink it) he sank onto the couch, waiting for the world to stop spinning.

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but sure enough, he found himself blinking awake several hours later. The narrow windows that were nearly brushing the ceiling no longer filtered in any light, and a quick look at his badly cracked smartphone (battered from years of use, as he couldn’t afford to replace or fix it) confirmed it was after eleven at night.

The good news was he felt a little better. Still weak and definitely groggy, but better nonetheless. He sat up on the couch, took a few sips of water, and took a few deep breaths. He cautiously approached his situation mentally, as if he were approaching a wild animal, holding a makeshift weapon in front of him. He knew that the more he accepted the reality of it, the more miserable and afraid he would get.

That’s why he eventually just gave up. He shoved his problems into the back of his mind and mentally searched for any kind of distraction. His TV was broken, so he couldn’t numb his head with that, and his phone would sap up too much data to use it for non-necessities, (and the wifi he used to steal from the nearby coffee shop stopped reaching his apartment for some reason) so besides making himself something to eat, he had no distractions.

One was better than nothing. He hauled himself to his feet and limped to the kitchen, still clutching his stomach. Despite his nausea, he still managed to be hungry. Processed human foods were perpetually unsatisfying, but they’d keep him alive, and give him some energy. Didn’t mean he’d ever leave a meal feeling particularly full, or like anything he just did was worthwhile.

He poured himself a bowl of cereal, cursing as he saw he had no milk to go with it. Oh well. He’d just have to eat it dry, like some kind of animal. Not feeling like looking for a spoon, he just dug into the bowl with his claws, eating the cereal with his hands. He knew that this was an absolutely degenerate way to eat cereal, but it was almost midnight, he’d just lost his job, and quite frankly he’d lost control of his life.

After giving up on standards and licking the cereal dust from the bottom of the bowl, a thought sparked in Belial’s head.  _ The letter. _ He’d been somewhat meaning to read it as soon as he got home, but his attention had been quickly diverted. Dropping the bowl into the sink (and wincing as it clattered against the plethora of other dirty dishes) Belial hobbled over to where he’d abruptly dropped the box of his things. It’d spilled over sideways, sending the meager contents across the floor.

He sifted through it, casting aside documents (and even a few old photographs) until he found it. He lifted the envelope gingerly, running his thumb over the wax seal. The color and the design stamped into it were both so familiar… where had he seen this before?

It was when he opened it and saw just a morsel of the handwriting within that it all came back to him. The old man who’d taken him in and raised him through his teen years. The reason he could say with confidence that some humans were inherently good. His eyes stung and he forced back tears, pulling the letter fully from the envelope.

On the floor of his musty apartment, still dizzy from sickness, Belial read the letter that would change his life.

* * *

  
  


_ Dearest Belial, _

_ You and I shared no blood, not even the same species, but I have always considered you to be my family. Since the day I brought you in, the bedraggled and somewhat bitter teen you were, I wanted the best for you.  _

_ In these final days, I wanted to make sure you would be alright without me. I know you’re an adult now, and I trust you to be strong enough on your own, but I suppose it is a parent’s instinct to worry. _

_ I’ve realized what you need most is a home. Somewhere safe you can return to. For a time, I was the provider of your home. Now, I can no longer be that for you. I am deeply sorry. _

_ Enclosed in this letter is the deed to land I own in the distant Stardew Valley. It is a peaceful place with kind people. Had other responsibilities not taken me back to the city, I imagine I’d have spent all of my days there. _

_ Now it is yours. You are a being of the earth, of nature. The city is not where you belong. _

_ Remember, you will always be my family. _

_ Sincerely, Grandpa _


	2. 2 - sense of community

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belial arrives at his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter seems a little rushed!

Belial knew he was poor, but after being able to shove everything he owned into one backpack, he realized just how broke he was. This, of course, would quickly prove to be a problem. He knew he’d need money for a bus ticket, after all; money he definitely didn’t have.

He could always walk, but it’d be over a day on foot, and Belial hardly knew the way there. The chances of him getting lost were high, and while he was perfectly capable of camping on the side of the road, he didn’t particularly  _ want  _ to. He may not have the privilege of choice, however.

The old man swooped in and posthumously saved the day again. On the back of his letter was a phone number--supposedly, it would connect him directly with a man named ‘Lewis’. Belial’s pride whimpered at the idea of begging this man for a bus ticket, or at least some help paying for one, but it may be necessary. After all, this was the only way he could avoid ending up back on the streets.

Using up a precious bit of cell data, he dialed in the phone number, sitting down on his musty old couch as he listened to it ring. He found himself anxiously bouncing his leg as the dial tone played in repeat. It’d been a few years since Belial’s adoptive grandpa had passed. If this ‘Lewis’ was an old man himself, who’s to say he was even still alive?

Belial had to hold in a sigh of relief when someone finally picked up. A voice (seemingly belonging to an old man, just as Belial had guessed) was heard on the other end. “Er… hello? Who is this?”

He took in a deep breath, “ _ Hello--” _ Cough. His voice was hoarser than intended. He paused to clear his throat before daring to speak again. “Hello. Is this... ‘Lewis’?”

There was a pause and a bit of shuffling on the other end of the line. “Yes, this is Lewis, mayor of Pelican Town. I don’t recognize this number, I’m afraid…”

“Well, er--” Belial fidgeted a bit, glad that the mayor couldn’t see his nervous tics through the phone. “My name is Belial, I’m--”

The mayor suddenly cut him off. “Ah, I remember now! Your grandfather gave you this number, didn’t he?” Lewis’ voice was audibly joyed. “Before he passed, he mentioned he left his farm to you--his grandson, yes?”

Belial’s eyes pricked a little bit.  _ ‘He really did consider me family, huh? _ ’ He forced back the tears and replied. “Yes, that’s me.” He pulled the folded deed out of his bag, holding it gingerly. He unfolded it with care, reading from it. “It’s… ‘Sunspot Farm’, right?” Internally, Belial was impressed that Lewis had recognized him so quickly. He must’ve been a personal friend of the old man, but it’d still been around five years since his passing.

“Yes, the old farm… I’ll warn you, though, it’s not in great shape right now. The town carpenter and I can clean it up a bit for your arrival, but I hope you’re prepared for that…” He chuckled a bit. “It’s a lovely place though, just a bit neglected over the years. With some attention and care, I imagine it’ll be beautiful again.”

Belial glanced along the musty cement walls of his basement apartment. “...I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”  _ ‘Anything’s better than here, after all…’ _

* * *

After discussing more of the details of Belial’s move, it was set in stone. The days before his departure went by both slowly and exceedingly fast, somehow. In the end, he didn’t even have to ask for a bus ticket. Out of pocket, the mayor had purchased one himself. All he had to do was be sure he wasn’t going to miss his ride.

Of course, Belial did leave out the fact that he wasn’t human. His name was very fae-like, so he was hoping that Lewis simply figured it out and didn’t mind, but he knew that was unlikely. Chances were that nobody had any idea that a non-human was moving into their town. 

He sat in the far back of a sparsely-filled bus, hugging his bag to his chest anxiously. A child a few seats ahead of him kept glancing back at him, though her mom kept pulling her gaze away with a stern murmur.

People were so stressful.

So far, Lewis had been so kind and hospitable. Belial wanted to take that gesture and feel welcomed and wanted, but his nerves didn’t allow that. He was excited for a new farmer to move into a small town, the kin of an old friend. Unless there was the slim chance that he had already figured out that Belial was nonhuman, he was surely going to be disappointed when he arrived.

But, it was fine. As much as it hurt to feel like he was using the old man’s kindness, Belial knew he only needed it as far as arriving into town. This would be a good setup for him. He’d live close enough to town to feel a taste of being human, but then just never leave his property.  _ Ever _ . Nobody would necessarily have to know that a Fae had moved in. It was for the better that they didn't.

The bus ride was a solid two hours long, and Belial wished that he could’ve listened to music or something, but his last pair of headphones had long since broken. He didn’t own any books to pack, nor did he think he pirate any off the internet onto his phone, but even if he had, he got carsick when reading anyways. There were no distractions from his inner anxieties.

One thing that calmed him slightly was watching the landscape slowly change outside of the window. It changed from a cityscape, to a breezy suburb, then slowly to rolling hills painted with deep, vivid greens. Belial felt a stirring in his chest. As much as he tried to live in the city, his grandfather was right about one thing at least; dryads belonged with nature.

It felt like years before the bus finally pulled to a stop in the valley. Quietly thanking the bus driver, Belial hurried off of the bus and onto a grassy walkway. Seems the roads in town weren’t entirely paved--but that was fine. Belial didn’t have a license anyway, so it wasn’t like he had to worry about driving.

He didn’t see anyone in the clearing and recognized this as his chance. If he could just find his way to the farm and quietly slip away, maybe not even Lewis would have to know that he wasn’t human… He walked over to the packed dirt path, glancing in both directions to see which way would be best to try…

“Hey there! You’re the new guy, right?” A female voice from behind Belial startled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a red-haired woman, seemingly in her mid-40s, approaching him. “Lewis sent me to…”

Ah. Belial knew exactly why she hesitated. He almost looked human at a glance, especially with a green backdrop for his horns to blend into. Of course, with more than a glance, it became obvious. “...which way is the farm?” He asked quietly, feeling ashamed. 

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Ah, um… over here! My name is Robin, by the way. I’m… er… the town carpenter!” She briskly walked past him, smiling a bit stiffly. “Follow me, I’ll show you.”

He recognized this. It was really the most common reaction humans had. Not hate, not fear, but discomfort. He nodded politely. “...thanks.”

After a short walk through a wooded path, Belial noticed a cabin through the trees. “Is that it?” He wondered aloud.

Robin nodded as they approached the cabin, surrounded by overgrown weeds and even fully-grown trees. If this was supposed to be farmland, it’d clearly been out of use for a long time. It had practically returned to being a forest.

“Well, er, thank you for your time, Robin,” Belial added to her before hurrying to the door of the cabin. “I’ll be out of your hair now--”

Just as he reached for the doorknob, the door suddenly swung open, whacking Belial in the face and sending him staggering off the porch. He slipped down the short stairwell and landed right on his behind. He grimaced, rubbing his aching forehead, before looking up to see who had been behind the door.

An older man with a grey mustache and a beat up old hat stood in the doorway with a mortified expression. “Oh, goodness, did I just--?” A familiar pause. “A fae? Excuse me, who are you?”

Belial hauled himself to his feet, now in a poor mood. “...I’m Belial. I live here now.”

He could practically feel Robin wince in sympathy for Lewis’ awkward situation. “Ah, um, I see! My apologies, I just… didn’t know you were… er…” He fidgeted. “How do I put this…”

More annoyance bubbled in Belial’s gut. “Not human. You can just say it, you know.”

A look of hurt crossed the old man’s face, and for a moment Belial felt bad. “I didn’t mean that. I just… wasn’t expecting you.” 

Robin stepped in to Lewis’ rescue. “Anyways, this is your cabin. How do you like it?” She stepped forward, putting a hand on Belial’s shoulder, which he managed not to instinctively shrug off. 

“Er, it’s certainly very rustic, yes?” Lewis followed up. “It may be dusty, but it has a lot of charm, a very ‘old country’ feel to it.”

Not giving him a chance to respond, Robin cracked an awkward joke. “Rustic? More like  _ crusty _ , if I’m gonna be honest.”

Belial sighed.  _ ‘At least they’re trying to treat me normally.’  _ “I lived in someone’s basement before this. I’ll take crusty.”

Lewis crossed his arms. “Well, I’m glad someone here can appreciate the small things. Don’t mind Robin, she just wants you to pay her to upgrade your house.”

Robin gasped, scandalized. “Hey!” Her response earned a small chuckle from the mayor.

Belial rubbed his forehead, which still hurt a bit. “Well… um… thanks for showing me to my house, and… er… for all your help, Lewis.”

“No need to thank me. Apologies for… well, the door thing.” He stepped out of the way. “I’m sure you’re tired from your trip. We’ll be out of your hair now. This farm has seen better days, yes, but there’s good soil here. You’ll do just fine, I believe.”

“...thank you,” he mumbled, ducking inside his new cottage, closing the door behind him.

The interior of the home was small, as to be expected. There appeared to be only one room, then a small bathroom off to the side. A miniature fridge that looked older than Belial was was the only piece of modern technology besides an equally ancient TV. His bed was oddly stuffed into a corner but seemed to be large enough for him to be comfortable in it. He was about to go and check out how thick the mattress was when his ear twitched.

_ ‘They’re talking outside, _ ’ he mused to himself.  _ ‘Don’t they know how strong Fae hearing is? They should’ve saved their gossip for when they got back into town.’ _

“...didn’t know he was nonhuman,” Robin murmured to Lewis. To her credit, she was keeping her voice low, just not low enough.

“I know he’ll be the only one in town, but… his grandfather--surely adoptive, but still--was a good man. I trust him. If he left the farm to someone nonhuman, they must be…”

Robin sighed. “I know not all of them are bad, but… you’ve heard the stories, right? I know they’re all fairytales, but all those stories of fae viciously abusing humans for their amusement… they could be based in some truth.”

“Well, some truth, yes, but like you said, not all of them have to be like that…” Lewis replied uneasily. 

Belial stopped listening, and eventually, they both walked away. He took the time to just let himself sink onto his bed. He expected to be greeted by a puff of dust, but was surprised to find that the sheets and blankets seemed to be freshly cleaned.

_ ‘Is that what Lewis was doing in here? Cleaning up? _ ’ A heavy feeling sank into his chest. If only he were human, he’d have been so welcome here. Robin and Lewis… they both seemed so kind. They even still tried to be friendly when it was revealed he was nonhuman. Maybe the others in town were just as kind. He could’ve truly belonged in this community if it just weren’t for that one _ flaw. _

Of course, even if they didn’t hate him for what he was, there would always be a divide. The plan he had considered earlier was his only option. He could live tantalizingly close to humans, close enough to dream that he could be one of them, but it was for the best that he kept to himself. 

He’d just intended to live here, but maybe it would be for the best if he took up a little farming. It’d give him something to do, and hopefully he could make a little extra money doing so. That way he wouldn’t have to try and get employment in town. That surely wouldn’t end well.

This was surely for the best.

It was only mid-afternoon, but Belial suddenly felt exhausted like he had been awake for years. Not bothering to get changed, he crawled under the blankets of his bed and slowly drifted off to sleep.


	3. 3 - stupid spicy plants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belial fights with nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, did you know I'm on Artfight? More specifically, did you know Belial was on Artfight?
> 
> https://artfight.net/character/529480.belial
> 
> Feel free to come attack him or any of my OCs if you'd like!

After finding some seeds left for him by Lewis, Belial figured it may not be a bad idea to take up a little bit of gardening after all. He was a dryad, after all. His powers were something he struggled to properly use. It wasn’t like he’d ever been properly trained. Maybe this could finally be the practice he needed.

To be generous, it was a work in progress.

Parsnips, according to the packaging, were what he was going to be planting first. Cautious of ruining a whole bundle of seeds, he first planted just one. Then, he gently watered it. Finally, with a deep breath, he tried to focus on it. He wasn’t entirely sure how to use his powers consciously (things just happened to grow faster around him, and he wasn’t sure how he was doing it) so this was his best guess.

Nothing. No reaction. He copied the dramatic wizards he sometimes saw in human fiction, holding his hands over where the seed was buried and closing his eyes, trying to focus on it. Nothing, still. He held his breath, tensing up his body. Nothing besides making him feel temporarily lightheaded.

With a groan of frustration, Belial decided his best move was to then punch the ground. This didn’t do ‘nothing’. Actually, it did a whole lot. Too much. The parsnip instantly grew to full size and exploded into Belial’s face, leaving a small crater where the inflated root once was. A mixture of mud and parsnip guts were now freshly coating Belial’s face.

All he could do was sigh deeply and smear the plant gore from his face, flicking it back onto the ground.  _ ‘Dead plants make good fertilizer, right?’ _ He mused to himself as he swept the chunks back into the crater, trying to fill it back in.  _ ‘Or is planting parsnips in the flesh of their dead brethren too morbid…?’  _ After a moment he decided he didn’t care. The parsnips would have to just deal with the existential horror themselves.

Alright, take two. He was going to give this one more try, and then he was just going to put this project on the backburner until he figured out his powers some more. Or maybe he could just plant his parsnips like a normal god damn person, and just let nature grow them, but he figured he might as well make the fact that he’s not human work  _ for  _ him instead of against him for once.

He plunged another seed into the now-softened earth, trying to think about what he did last time.  _ ‘Was it the anger?’ _ To test that theory, Belial stared daggers at the little mound of dirt, trying to convince himself that the particular parsnip seed before him was responsible for all of his life problems. If it did anything, it didn’t show. Now Belial was simply left  _ thinking _ about all of his life problems, which wasn’t ideal.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he focused once more. Alright, was it contact? In hindsight, that’s definitely the more likely option. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before gently– _ oh so gently– _ lowering his hand onto where the seed was planted.

Nothing.

Belial groaned, putting his head in his hands. He may be in possession of the most  _ useful _ power in the world for farming, and he couldn’t even figure out how to use it. He had no idea how the magic of a dryad worked, but he knew what kind of spectacular things he  _ could  _ do. When he lived in the Arcane Wilds, he saw the fruits of other dryads’ magic. He saw them grow massive redwoods from minuscule seeds within hours. He saw them return charred landscapes to blooming forests within days. He’d even once seen an older female dryad grow a flower from nothing in seconds.

But, as usual, Belial couldn’t do that. Sick of feeling sorry for himself, he pulled to his feet and walked away. Earlier, he’d noticed that, behind his cottage, there was a path through the rocks that lead north. He had little else to do besides check that out.

* * *

Is this a bad time to mention that it’s currently one in the morning? Because it is. It’s one in the morning.

Without a diurnal work schedule, a mere few days into Belial’s move his sleep schedule became a mess. He often woke up around noon or later, and would explore the dense woodland that had taken over his farm. He’d been trying to clear some of it out, but he didn’t have the heart to chop down the fully-grown trees. Instead, he’d been sticking to the fallen logs, brush, and small saplings. He’d been doing this until the dim hours of the morning for the past few days.

Before crashing after an evening of labor, Belial took this time to explore. After all, the town seemingly was populated by early-risers who were long in bed by the time he was skulking around. Besides, they couldn’t see him in the dark, but he could see  _ them _ . That meant that even if he ran into an odd night owl, he could avoid them easily.

The short path up the mountain lead him towards a house, which he skirted around by sticking to the upper path behind it. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a tent, but he doubted anyone was in it. It wasn’t exactly camping season just yet. The chill of winter was still in the air a bit.

He picked his way along the upper path, stopping to inspect a few plants along the way. The only thing that caught his attention was some kind of wild root vegetable. Curiosity and poor judgment got the best of him, and he dug the strange plant up, smelling it.  _ Smells like dirt. _ He wasn’t sure what he was expecting.

With a shrug, he decided to simply eat it. The first layer of taste was, unsurprisingly, just dirt. Making a face, he crunched further, sharp teeth grinding the odd root up in his mouth. That is when the  _ second _ taste hit him.

Spicy.

Oh, it was so  _ spicy. _

Well, really, it wasn’t that spicy. Belial is just a particularly sad kind of wimp when it comes to spicy food. He would likely find yellow mustard spicy. So, the mild burn of a single horseradish was like setting his mouth on fire and trying to put it out with concentrated gasoline. 

Disoriented with oral pain, Belial stumbled forward, letting out a startled shriek when the ground suddenly gave way under him. A sheer drop was before him, sending him tumbling straight down several feet. He rolled across the ground, and with a heavy  _ splash, _ he landed into chilly water.

With a few moments a bit of frantic splashing, Belial managed to right himself. The water was only up to his waist in terms of depth, so he wasn’t in any real danger. After sighing miserably and coming to terms with what just unfortunately happened to him, he decided to make the best of a bad situation. He cupped some of the water in his hands, sipping it to cool off his still burning mouth. He swished the water around, cautiously aware for pieces of the root still stuck in his jagged teeth.

If there was any good news about this scenario, it would be that even though he surely made a loud splash, nobody was awake to hear him. He flopped onto the lakeshore, just deciding to catch his breath before the miserable walk home.  _ ‘What a disaster,’ _ he thought to himself as he let out a deep breath.  _ ‘Stupid plant. Stupid, spicy plant.’ _

Just as Belial was about to peel himself from the rocky lakeshore, his eyes picked up a bright light. A  _ flashlight. _ Someone was approaching from further down the shore.  _ ‘Dammit!’ _ Belial internally cursed. Along the bottom rock ledge he had just tumbled down, dense bushes were growing. He leaped into one, taking cover amongst the dense branches.

“...hello?” A voice called out. By the sound of it, it seemed to belong to a young man. However, even with Belial’s sharp eyes, he couldn’t make out more than just a vague shape. His eyes focused too much on the light source in his hands to make out what was behind it. It was like he was invisible.

Of course, he wasn’t about to  _ answer _ the man’s call. That’d be ridiculous. Instead, he curled himself a little tighter into the bush, hoping the branches hid him well enough. The light source got closer, along with the sound of footsteps crunching along the dirt.

“...a raccoon or something…?” He mumbled, shining the light around. Though Belial still couldn’t make his appearance out by sight, his nose scrunched a little as a scent hit his nostrils.  _ Cigarettes.  _ Whoever was approaching him smelled like cigarettes.  _ ‘Dammit… I didn’t even consider someone could be out here for a late night smoke…!’ _

The man got closer to the bush, and Belial did a mental check to ensure all of his limbs were hidden. Arms? Check. Legs? Check. Head? Horns? Hopefully, check. His tail?

Well, as if on a perfect cue, a sneaker stepped down onto his tail, prompting a shriek of pain and surprise from Belial. Instinctually, he leaped out of the bush, scaling the rocky surface with his claws. He heard a faint  _ “Holy shit!” _ from whoever the poor witness was, but Belial just wanted to  _ get the hell out of there. _ He scrambled up onto the upper path, feeling a jolt of horror as another shape emerged from within the tent he’d simply ignored earlier. 

_ ‘Fuck.’ _

Belial ran faster than he ever had in his life, back down the mountain path to his farm. The last thing he’d wanted to do was meet people out there, and not only did he run into  _ two people,  _ but he also managed to embarrass himself in front of them. Maybe whoever lived in the tent didn’t see his display, but the smoker surely did.

His run had degraded into a pathetic shamble by the time he finally returned to his cabin, and at that point, he was so focused on getting himself cleaned off and in bed, well…

He didn’t notice that the parsnip he planted had grown into a small sprout.


	4. 4 - trespasser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kjhgkjfdh WOW I'm sorry this took forever, and I'm not 100% sure I like how it came out. Even still, I figured a chapter that isn't quite the best is better than no chapter at all.

Despite seeing the fruits of some kind of success, Belial still isn’t entirely sure how he made the parsnip grow.

His best guess is that contact speeds up the growth. It may not be an instant, spectacular bloom like he was hoping, but that would still be something. He hoped that was the case, anyways. Otherwise, he had just lovingly cradled a baker’s dozen parsnip seeds for no reason. One by one. It was times like these he was glad to be a hermit. The questions that would be raised by such a sight would be a hassle to explain.

The events of the night prior still mortified him to think about. The smoker surely got a good look at him, as he did feel the flashlight follow him as he climbed up the cliffside. Then, the one in the tent must’ve gotten a glimpse as he fled. All the more reason to leave his farm as little as possible. If he never saw either of them again, he’d never have to explain himself.

After planting his parsnips, it was still only around two in the afternoon. He could clear out more of the growth on his farm, but his spine and shoulders ached in protest at the very thought. His powers may be suited for farming (if he could just  _ figure the damn things out) _ but his physique was not. He was spindly and scrawny, and no amount of nature magic would give him muscles. Even the effort of climbing last night had left him with a sharp ache that he only realized when the panic-induced adrenaline wore off.

But boredom was an old, bitter enemy. What could Belial  _ do  _ besides work on the farm? He could watch TV, sure, but it seems he only got a few channels on the old, dusty box: a fortune teller, the weather forecast, and occasionally some shows focused around cooking or foraging. The thought of watching that for hours made Belial want to eat his own fingers, one by one. 

He sighed, gazing at his tiny row of parsnips, leaning back onto his mailbox. 

Oh, right.

He has a mailbox.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, fumbling to get the rusty latch open, “if I got jury duty, I’m gonna stuff everything I own up my--”

He let himself trail off, curiously eyeing the piece of paper inside. He cautiously pulled it out and unfolded it, gently pressing out the crease that held its shape in place. It was, thank Yoba, not any kind of legal document. Instead, it was a handwritten letter, scratched with blocky handwriting.

_ ‘Hello there, _

_ Just got back from a fishing trip. You should come down to the beach sometime. _

_ I’ve got something for ya. _

_ -Willy’ _

He read the note over a few times. “...some kind of scam?” He muttered, unsure. He also didn’t know how to get to the beach and wasn’t sure if there  _ was _ a way to get there without being spotted by every person in town along the way. As much as the allure of free stuff tempted him, he couldn’t risk it.

_ ‘Sorry, Willy,’  _ he mused to himself, opening his door just to toss the note onto the floor inside. It was a bit of a shame, really. Whoever this man was, he was probably a nice guy, considering he had a gift for a new neighbor he hadn’t met, but as sure as anything, he intended that gift for a  _ human  _ recipient.

With nothing else to do, Belial positioned himself in the shade of a tree. It was cool out, but he’d always felt more comfortable out of direct sunlight. With how little he actually spent time outside in the sun, he wondered how his skin stayed so dark. Maybe it was just another thing weird about him.

He stretched, ready to curl himself up like a cat amongst the tree roots, when a sound caught his attention. It was a short  _ crack. _ The sound of someone breaking a twig underfoot. Tensing up, Belial peered around the tree-trunk, his wide golden eyes scanning the direction in which he heard the sound from.

The source caused his stomach to drop like a heavy ball. He saw a human shape within the brush, standing out plainly as she was clad in bright colors. She was exploring curiously, swinging a wooden sword at the thick bushes that were in her path.

She set her sights on something nearby and started to trek towards Belial. He hissed curses under his breath, ignoring the protests of his aching muscles to claw his way up the trunk of the tree. This invader must be one of the townsfolk, and considering how fast rumors spread in small communities, she’s clearly looking for him. The last thing Belial wanted was to have to deal with someone face-to-face.

Curiously, as she approached, he felt a tiny flicker. Unlike humans, Fae had six main senses by default, while their counterparts had to train hard to have the sense at all. The sense was called ‘aether’, the sense of nearby magic. It was a hard feeling to describe to anyone who’d never felt it themselves, but Belial was sure he felt the tiniest crawling of aether when the girl approached.

_ ‘Weird. She might be a mage or something.’  _ He watched her from the branches, curiosity now joining his wariness. The aether around her was very faint, however, barely noticeable. He’d only caught it because he wasn’t expecting it. He was the only magical being around here, assumedly.

“Heeeelllooooo?” The girl called out, putting her hands on her hips. “You can’t hide from the town forever, new guy! Come out and talk to us!”

_ ‘Nope. I’ll be staying right up here, thank you very much.’ _ Belial shuffled further along the branch, hiding deeper within the foliage.

“C’mon, it’s like you’re a ghost or something. I know you’ve gotta be outside, your cabin’s empty!”

“Did you--” Belial caught himself, but it was too late.  _ ‘Did she just peer into my windows? Creepy!’ _

She looked around, confused. Thankfully, she didn’t think to look  _ up.  _ “Hey, I heard that! Where are you?”

Belial shut his eyes, hoping that if he stayed still and quiet, she would get bored and leave. However, this world’s god seemed to be just as unfair as the one from the Arcane Wilds. The branch began to creak beneath him. He clung desperately to the tree trunk, trying to channel his powers as a dryad into begging the tree not to break.

The tree was in no mood to listen. The branch supporting his feet broke, sending him slipping down the tree trunk, and onto the leaf-ridden forest floor with a loud  _ thump. _

The girl let out a startled yelp. “Oh Yoba, you were in the t-- _ huh?” _ She took a step back. “...a fae? Where’s the new farmer?” She tensed. “Oh. Oh no. You…”

“If you’re about to say I ate the farmer, I’m going to rip out my own femur and beat myself to death with it.” Belial sat up, accepting that he was caught and having already decided he was done with this situation. “ _ I’m  _ the farmer. I thought the juicy tidbit that the new guy’s not human would’ve spread all around town by now.”

She still seemed wary. “...err, no? I kind of figured Lewis would, y’know, mention that, but after you moved in the old man just totally shut up about you. Which was  _ weird  _ because you were all he could talk about for a bit there!”

“He didn’t know until I showed up. Clearly he was disappointed.” Belial stood, brushing himself off. “Listen, I get it. Before Fae started commonly crossing the veil, all you guys knew about us was that we were magical and totally out to kill you all. Not true, by the way, most of us couldn’t give less of a damn about humans, but I  _ get it. _ I just wanna live out here in this overgrown farm and not interact with anyone. Can’t you just let me do that?”

“”If Fae don’t care about humans, why are so many of them coming here? Heck, why are  _ you  _ here?” Her tone still suggested distrust. “Surely there’s an overgrown farm or two in the magical world.”

Belial bristled. “I don’t have the luxury of being able to pick where to live! So, I--” He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “So I’m trying to make this work. Listen. I’ve been here for… probably two weeks now, and none of you guys even knew I was here. If I were really out to steal your souls or eat your brains or whatever, wouldn’t I have done something already?”

“...okay, fair point.” She shrugged casually. 

“Besides,” he continued unnecessarily, “I’m not even a powerful Fae. I’m completely incompetent. I tried to use magic to grow a parsnip and it  _ exploded. _ In my  _ face. _ And then I proceeded to fall in a lake! Please. I’m too useless to be dangerous.”

Her expression filled with amusement. “Exploded? Really? How do you even do that? That could almost be useful, you know. Parsnip bombs.” She paused, before her eyes widened. “...wait, oh my--” She let out a loud  _ ‘pfft’  _ of laughter. “You! You’re the giant possum!”

Belial just blinked, unable to speak for a moment. “...excuse me?”

“My friend Seb, last night he saw something run out of the lake--he said it looked like a giant, red possum. It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Wh-- _ a possum!?  _ I don’t even--I don’t look like a possum!” Belial’s face warmed with shame. “Who’s this ‘Seb’ calling a  _ possum!?” _

She couldn’t contain her giggles. “H-Hey, c’mon now, possums are cute! But, like, you admit that it was you, then, right?”

Belial groaned. “...depends, is your friend a smoker? ‘Cause the smell of smoke is all I got of the dick who  _ stepped  _ on my  _ tail. _ ”

“Oh yeah, that’s him.” She gave a bright, humorous grin. “Alright, then you’re harmless. If you could resist smiting Seb on the spot there, you’re fine.”

“...that’s your criteria?” Belial sighed, deciding to accept it. “Fine. Whatever works. I’m not even capable of ‘smiting’.”

She held out a hand. “Well, my name’s Abigail. Nice to meet you, spooky demon farmer!”

Belial rolled his eyes and accepted the handshake. “ _ Charmed.  _ But I’m not a demon. My name’s Belial. Demons don’t even exist.”

She frowned. “Aw, what? That’s lame. Oh well. See you around, Belial.” She accepted the handshake without flinching, before turning and trotting back towards the entrance of the farm, not waiting for him to reply.

“...weirdo,” Belial murmured inaudibly. Even humans without a sense of aether still felt a jolt of magic when touching a Fae, yet she didn’t even react. On top of that, if she didn’t know that the farmer was non-human, why did she bring a  _ sword? _ Who brings a sword to greet their new neighbor?

All of this was just odd, and Belial’s ass hurt from falling into it. In the end, he decided he didn’t feel like questioning it. Some things just weren’t worth wondering about.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my life. Please tell me what you think! This story is very open-ended at the moment, so I'd love to hear feedback on what people think. Who knows, you may influence the story moving forward~


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